


One Last Time

by MidnightChardonnay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Obsession, Self-Pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22837957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightChardonnay/pseuds/MidnightChardonnay
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy has a crush. Well, more of an obsession, to be honest. She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn't. But she did. One Last Time.Written for Fairest of the Rare's Love Fest 2020 in response to a prompt by ThorneandRose.Prompt: Narcissa/Harry - Sick ObsessionThis fic is unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine alone. I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters or places mentioned.#TeamEros
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Narcissa Malfoy/Harry Potter (imagined)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43
Collections: Love Fest 2020





	One Last Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhimsyAndMalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsyAndMalice/gifts).



She knew. She knew it was wrong, sick, twisted. She knew that she shouldn’t. She should just walk away, leave the manor, even. She shouldn’t want to hear, want to see, want to feel. 

But she didn’t. She stayed by the door, listening, imagining herself in the room with him. Just the two of them. She imagined it was her name on his sigh, her lips he was tasting, her body he was thrusting in and out of. 

Standing in the hallway in her nightgown, she listened. Her long, slender fingers pinched her nipples through the soft silk, her hand rushing down her lithe body to brush against her throbbing clit. 

She listened to the sounds of sensual kisses, and imagined her lips on his, on his jaw and neck, down his chest and stomach until she reached his cock; his hardness a sign of his want for her. She imagined the sighs were in response to her touches, kisses, and ministrations. 

As she listened, she touched herself, letting her head fall back against the wall next to the door. She rubbed circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, taking in short, panting breaths as she brought herself closer to the edge, listening as his sighs and moans increased in volume. She crested the ridge of her orgasm at the same time he shouted out his release, his name falling silently from her lips as he shouted his lover’s name to the room.

She shouldn’t want to feel his lips on her, trailing sweet, open mouthed kisses up and down her neck. She shouldn’t want to feel his teeth nipping at the sensitive spot right where her neck curved into her shoulder. She shouldn’t want her mouth on his cock, wrapping her lips around the tip and taking him deep, tasting the sweet drop of liquid oozing out of him and he responded to her. 

She definitely shouldn’t imagine taking him into her throat and swallowing around him, milking every drop of pleasure out of him as she brought him figuratively to his knees in pleasure, while she was literally on hers before him. 

She shouldn’t want anything from him at all. 

He was Draco’s boyfriend, afterall. Her  _ son’s lover.  _ She hadn’t been surprised when Draco came to her and told her he was into men. She had known, or at least sensed, for years that he was gay, and was completely supportive of him. 

The problem she had was  _ this _ man. She had been half in love with him for years, even before she had had to lie to the Dark Lord about whether he was dead or alive during the Battle. Everyone thought she had done it to save her son, and yes, that was part of it. But she had done it for  _ him. _

She had wanted him to live. To live so that she could see him, watch him, touch him, taste him. Love him. 

How many nights she had lie awake in bed since then, running her hands up and down her body, pinching her tight nipples, rubbing and pinching her clit, fucking herself with her fingers until her body coiled and writhed and snapped with pleasure. All while wishing it was his fingers, his tongue, his cock inside of her. 

She’d screamed his name to the moon so many times, she wondered how he didn’t feel her calling to him in his sleep.  _ Harry, Harry, oh Harry….. _

The first time he’d come to the manor with Draco, she’d stayed away. Locked herself in her rooms to avoid any unfavorable confrontations lest she give herself away. She didn’t want to hurt Draco. 

The next time, she hadn’t known he was there. She’d gone to Draco’s room to talk to him about something she didn’t even remember now, and it’s not important anyway. What was important was when she knocked softly and received no answer, she’d cracked the door gently, afraid he was asleep. 

She peeked in, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping, and instead she saw  _ him _ . Lying on Draco’s bed, half propped up by pillows surrounding his head. Draco must have gone to the loo because though he was nowhere to be seen, Harry was sitting in his bed, thick cock in hand, slowly stroking himself to keep his cock hard while waiting for his lover’s return. 

She tried to look away, she really did. She tried to leave, to ignore, to forget. 

But when she finally, silently, shut the door, she ran to her rooms, locked herself in, cast a strong silencing charm, and thought of him. 

Heart racing, pulse pounding in her ears, all that heat rushing through her body, soaking her knickers and her thighs…

The orgasm had snapped through her so fast, white hot and blazing, searing her skin, setting her blood to boil. She had screamed out his name, over and over. Not letting her body settle after the first orgasm, she brought herself back to the edge, again and again, until her body was numb, and she couldn’t move her arms or hands anymore. 

She needed more. She needed  _ him.  _

It continued like this for months. In her guilt, she had withdrawn from Draco, from her societal responsibilities. Her son thought it was grief over Lucius’ imprisonment and subsequent death in Azkaban, and she let him think that. Better that than him knowing she was lusting after his boyfriend. 

She was consumed. Every thought was about Harry. How she dressed, every decision, was with him in mind. Would he like this dress, would he prefer her hair up or down, if she made this decision, would he approve and be proud of her? 

The day Draco had come to her with their announcement, she sat silently fuming, angry that though they’d been together for over a year now, Harry still chose Draco over her. 

How could he betray her like that? Stab her in the back, reject her. Didn’t he see how much she loved him? Wanted him? She would provide for him, support him, encourage his dreams and hopes. She would stand by his side in all things. 

Why? 

Why didn’t he want her? What did Draco have that she didn’t? Draco would be nothing,  _ nothing!,  _ without her. Literally. 

She stood, an anger and hurt in her eyes that Draco didn’t understand. She muttered a polite congratulations and quit the room, elegant robes billowing behind her and she swept away to her rooms. 

She wouldn’t cry, she told herself, disobedient eyes filling with the unfamiliar moisture of sadness. She wouldn’t cry. 

_ Don’t cry _ , she admonished herself.  _ Don’t cry _ .  _ You are Narcissa Black Malfoy, and you do not cry.  _

She cried. Wept actually, sobbed hysterically even. 

She shed tears for everything that she’d ever dreamt about. The galas they would have attended together, the life they would have built.

The nights they would have shared…

Her body still ached for him. She willed herself not to feel, not to yearn for his body. 

One last time, she told herself as she lifted her skirts, sliding two fingers into the wet heat of her cunt. This is the last time. 

As she brought herself to the edge of orgasm, one last stroke pushing her over the edge. She knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Her love for him would never end, her lust for him never sated. 

Her body pulsed around her fingers, her breathing labored in the aftermath. Tears still fell down her pale cheeks, into the pale blonde hair above her ears. 

One last time, she thought to herself, her fingers moving inside of herself. One more time. 

  
  



End file.
